


May We Meat Again

by Flika



Category: Cutthroat Kitchen RPF, The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bad Cooking, Cooking, Crack, F/F, Reality TV, culinary bdsm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 07:57:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7352581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flika/pseuds/Flika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The clexa cutthroat kitchen AU no one asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	May We Meat Again

“I have 100,000 dollars of cold hard cash in this case. Four chefs get 25,000 dollars each. If they want to leave the kitchen with any of the cash, they have to survive three culinary challenges- and each other!" Alton Brown intoned ominously.

Clarke looked around at her competition. There was Raven, her old buddy from culinary school, making finger guns at her. To Raven’s left stood chef Bellamy- and lastly, there was a mousy looking girl in glasses who was kind of smoking hot. Chef Lexa, according to her nametag.

Alton Brown cleared his throat and then continued, “For the first round, you will be making red velvet cake. Think red, velvety, and cake. You will have 60 seconds to grab all the ingredients you need. GO!”

After the contestants rushedly filled their baskets with ingredients, Alton Brown clapped his hands together gleefully, “And now, for my favorite part, sabotages. For the first sabotage, your victim’s flour will be replaced with popcorn.”

Clarke immediately raised her hand, shouting, “One thousand!” and Lexa’s eyes widened in fear. To her left, Bellamy scoffed, and to her right, Raven laughed mischievously.

Raven smirked and raised her own hand, shouting “TWO grand.” She thought to herself, Why not up the price a bit?

“Well, since you’re just jumping up and up- WHY NOT GO STRAIGHT TO THREE THOUSAND?”

And, well, Clarke did just that, and she said nothing as she pointed to her far left- the quiet brunette with the glasses.

The rest of the sabotages were raffled off quickly. Bellamy was saddled with cotton candy as a replacement for sugar, and Raven forced the three other contestants to use a campfire as their heat source.

Clarke was pulled aside by the camera man and was asked how she planned to cook cake over a campfire. Clarke shrugged confidently, explaining, “Well, I’ve been to a lot of bonfires. I think I’ll be just fine.”

Huddled near the campfire, Clarke tried to concentrate on mixing her cake batter as Raven taunted her from her “no sabotages” high ground. Once mixed, she sighed in frustration as the batter began to cook unevenly. Still, she was definitely better off than Bellamy or Lexa. Lexa was crushing up popcorn into a fine powder with a potato masher, and Bellamy was trying to dissolve cotton candy in milk to no avail.

Bellamy poured his batter into a blender—damn it, Clarke wished she had thought of that technique instead of whisking. He confidently pressed down the pulse button— and was met with a face full of red goo, as he had forgotten the blender top.

Bellamy looked sadly down at the mess, “Well, fuck.”

Clarke tried to hide her smile, but Raven made no such effort. She doubled over in laughter over her station, banging on the counter top.

Round 1 passed by in a blur, and soon Clarke was plating her singed and slightly undercooked red velvet slice. She dotted on some cream cheese icing and hoped that would cover the consistency.

Alton Brown pointed to the 0:00 timer and announced, “Times up! Today Octavia Blake will be judging your cakes based on three factors. Does it taste good? Does it look good? And does it remind the judge of a Red Velvet Cake?”

Lexa was judged first, and Octavia complimented her glittery presentation. Who had time to add edible glitter during a timed competition? Clarke wondered. Next, Octavia sung the praises of Raven’s modern interpretation of a red velvet cake, a cream cheese soup with red velvet cracker dippers. Then it was Clarke’s turn.

“So what do you have here for me today, Clarke?” Octavia asked, taking a bite of her cake.

“Well, gorgeous,” Clarke flirted, leaning over the table mischievously, “I made you a rustic red velvet souffle.”

Octavia raised her eyebrow, “Is that code for undercooked and burnt? Cute.”

“I know I am,” Clarke winked. Octavia just smirked in response.

Bellamy interrupted, “Ok, ew, ew. That’s my sister, Clarke. Can you just judge me now?”

Octavia sighed and walked over to Bellamy’s cake. She took a bite and scrunched up her nose, “Why is this so bitter? And you made barely any cake.”

Bellamy shrugged, “It’s a more refined, gourmet twist on the traditional dessert.”

Octavia shook her head, “It’s just bad, bro.”

  
Unsurprisingly, Bellamy was eliminated from the round. As Bellamy’s angry leaving interview was filmed in the background, Alton introduced the next round, “For round two, you will be making a Southwestern taco. Please, cook nothing that would pass for food at Taco Bell.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow, “Don’t worry, I have lots of experience with tacos.” To her surprise, Lexa broke into laughter despite Alton’s stern glare. She was pretty sure that was the first time she had heard Lexa make a sound during the competition.

 Alton Brown tutted at them and signaled the start of the 60-second ingredient grabbing time. Clarke hurriedly grabbed corn tortillas, chicken, vegetables, and spices, before dashing out of the cupboard. She keeled over for a minute, Clarke was not used to running like that.

“For the first sabotage,“ Alton announced. “You will be able to swap all of your opponent's equipment for tinfoil. Pans, knives, mixing tools, everything.”

“$3,000!” Lexa called out.

Raven counterbid her, but Lexa was able to win the sabotage for $5000. Clarke avoided eye contact and sighed with relief when Raven was awarded the sabotage. She had no idea how she was supposed to chop chicken with tin foil.

Raven didn’t seem to be too worried, “My second major was engineering in college, and I’m awesome, I’ve got this.”

The next sabotage went to Raven as well, this time by Clarke’s doing. Raven fumed with anger as she looked down at the hot dog roller she was now required to use as a heat source. Clarke knew she was going to pay for that later.

Later came quickly, as Raven blew $8,000 on the final sabotage of the round. Clarke groaned as the bobs brought out matching chef's hats topped with candles and strapped them onto her and Lexa’s heads. Somehow, they would have to cook taco meat over each other’s candles.

Clarke quickly cut up her ingredients and tossed together the chopped chicken, jalapenos, and onions along with spices for flavor. Once she had her taco meat ready to cook, Clarke turned to Lexa and said, “I have no fucking clue how to cook chicken over a candle flame. This sabotage sucks.”

Lexa shrugged, “I don’t know, it’s not that bad. I love candles and they can actually generate a nice and even flame under the right conditions. Plus they smell amazing.”

Clarke furrowed her eyebrows, “Are you one of those candle vloggers or something?”

Lexa nodded eagerly, “Yeah! I have a youtube channel and everything. CandleHeda12”

While Clarke tried to process that revelation, Raven had successfully mixed her ground beef with spices in a tin foil bowl and was moving on to cooking. She used the tin foil to fill in the gaps in the hot dog roller, creating a pan that provided a flat surface for her meat. Raven smiled, satisfied with her genius creativity, and poured on her meat.

But Alton interrupted her, “I think you’re forgetting something.” He flicked a switch, starting the hot dog roller turning. Raven gasped as her make-shift pan was jostled and the meat began to spill out onto the roller and floor.

“Oh dear,” Alton opined before leaving Raven to deal with her mess of taco meat.

Lexa and Clarke weren’t fairing much better as they tried to cook their meat over candles. “Stand still,” Clarke whined, holding a pan over Lexa’s head.

Lexa sighed, “Would it help if I kneeled down so you could reach better?”

“You’re barely taller than me, shut up,” Clarke muttered. “But yeah, probably.”

Lexa mock bowed and kneeled in front of Clarke, allowing Clarke to better hold her pan over the flame. With this new setup, Clarke was able to cook the chicken surprisingly well. With a smile, she poured the finished product onto her tortilla roll.

“Thanks for bowing and shit,” Clarke muttered.

Lexa nodded sagely, “I swear fealty to your tacos, Clarke.”

Clarke just rolled her eyes, “That’s weird, but whatever, it’s your turn.” Clarke bowed her head slightly but didn’t kneel, no way were tacos worth sitting on the floor.

Lexa’s chopped steak cooked quickly, and soon their tacos were plated elegantly for the judges. Octavia entered the room again, stopping by Raven’s station first.

“So, I made a charred beef taco salad,” Raven explained. “I have ground beef and tortilla bits over a nice bed of lettuce.”

Octavia poked critically at the salad before responding, “Unfortunately, this beef is more burnt than charred. Your tortillas are torn very roughly instead of having quality knife work, and this isn’t even really a taco, it’s a salad.”

Octavia didn’t have many kind words for Lexa and Clarke’s tacos either, as they were both a bit undercooked. However, in the end Raven was eliminated, which she ruled “Fucking bullshit.”

Clarke couldn’t believe she had actually gotten to the last round. But she didn’t have much time for self-congratulation, because Alton was already announcing the final dish to be cooked.

“For the last round, you will be making a meal fit for an all-american bbq. That should include some type of grilled meat, and some classic comfort food sides as well. Get shopping!”

Clarke ran into the cupboard and grabbed hot dogs, ingredients for cole slaw, and a bunch of sauces. Racing back to her station, she suddenly realized she had forgotten hot dog buns. Groaning, Clarke wondered how she could make do without such a crucial ingredient.

“Seeing as this is bbq, I have something from the Wild West here for y’all today,” Alton announced as he revealed the first sabotage. “An inflatable horse that you will have to ride for the entire length of the competition.”

Clarke wasn’t fazed by this sabotage, and she let Lexa easily outbid her. How hard could holding a toy horse possibly be?

The next sabotage on the table was the option to steal all of your opponent’s salt and replace it with a block of salt that they had to chisel salt off of. Lexa looked worried, she had grabbed raw beef and the ingredients to make a homemade bbq sauce. Without salt, Lexa’s food would be bland and flavorless.

“$5000!” Clarke called out.

Lexa bit her lip before counter bidding, “I bid $8,000.”

Clarke whistled. If Lexa didn’t want the sabotage that much, Clarke had to give it to her, no matter what the cost. “$10,000!”

Lexa bit her tongue instead of counter bidding, and Clarke gleefully handed her the solid salt and chisel. “I guess today we finally found out the Price of Salt,” Clarke quipped.

They quickly set to work, Lexa struggling to chip salt off her block while Clarke hobbled around, chopping up the vegetables for her cole slaw. Clarke quickly became immersed in the task, cole slaw was her thing and she knew the recipe by heart. She was so immersed in putting the finishing touches on her cole slaw that when Alton started saying something Clarke didn’t bother listening until she heard him shout “Sold!” Uh oh.

Lexa had won a late round sabotage against her! The bobs marched over, carrying two large beer bottles and several rolls of duct tape. Clarke looked on in horror as the bobs taped the bottles to her hands so she couldn’t use her fingers. Clarke glared at Lexa as she tried to hide her laughter behind her hand.

Clarke gave up on cooking the hot dogs in a pan, instead clutching two hot dogs with her beer bottles and throwing them into the deep fryer. Holding the inflatable horse between her legs was getting progressively harder now Clarke couldn’t hold it with her hands as well. She was able to wedge the fried hot dogs between her bottles to carry them back to her station, but as she hobbled back Clarke lost her grip on the horse and went tumbling down with it.

“Ow,” Clarke moaned.

Suddenly, like an angel, Lexa appeared above her with a helping hand, pulling her to her feet and even putting her hot dogs on her plate for her.

“Thank you,” Clarke said in awe.

“Now, that’s real sweet, but unfortunately I’ll have to dock you $500 for helping your opponent, Lexa,” Alton interrupted, taking $500 from Lexa’s case and walking away.

Lexa frowned before leaning into Clarke to whisper conspiratorially, “This whole competition is dumb. And it occurs to me that if neither of us loses we both get to keep the money.”

Clarke crinkled her eyebrows in confusion, “What are you saying?”

“We blow the competition,” Lexa whispered.

Clarke didn’t know why she did it, maybe it was how gorgeous Lexa looked up so close, but she agreed. “You know what, sure. Let’s just eat each other’s food and turn in empty plates.”

Lexa beamed, and they shook on it.

But suddenly a devious idea occurred to Clarke. She turned away from Lexa to obscure what she was doing. Clumsily, she brushed half the cole slaw onto a second plate and added a hot dog, hiding the real prepared plate inside of the oven. Then, she brought her fake plate back to Lexa and they chowed down on each other’s food.

“Times up!” Alton shouted.

Lexa cheerfully presented her empty plate, but her face dropped when she saw Clarke suddenly had a perfect plate of food. “Traitor!” Lexa whispered.

Clarke felt kind of bad, but Lexa’s explanation of her empty plate was pretty hilarious.

“It’s a deconstructed hamburger, the mystery is in what you can’t taste,” Lexa explained with barely concealed laughter.

Octavia just shook her head and moved on to Clarke’s plate, which she judged to be satisfactory.

“Now, this wasn’t a very tight race,” Octavia explained. “Clarke, your food wasn’t that amazing but it was fine. Lexa, you presented literally nothing. So the winner is...”

Octavia paused for the cut to commercial before continuing, “Clarke!”

Clarke beamed with joy, hugging her money as Lexa dejectedly returned hers. They filmed the winning interview, and Clarke excitedly made it rain. But she couldn’t help feeling like the victory was a hollow one, and despite herself Clarke felt bad for what she had done to Lexa. So when the film crew finished up and left, Clarke was glad to meet back up with Lexa in the hallway.

“Hey,” Clarke said softly. “I’m sorry about...screwing you over.”

Lexa shrugged, “It’s okay, it was pretty funny. Plus, it’s hard to stay mad at someone so cute.”

Clarke blushed, “Hey, you’re just trying to get yourself a sugar daddy now I have this big case of money.”

Lexa laughed, twirling her hair exaggeratedly, “Maybe I am. You know...I know where Alton keeps the sabotages, and I can’t help feeling like some of his culinary bdsm implements would be great for real bdsm.”

Clarke blinked in shock at Lexa’s forwardness, before realizing she was joking. “Let’s slow things down...how about I buy you dinner to make up for being a jerk?” Clarke suggested.

Lexa shook her head, “Or you could cook for me?”

Clarke smiled, “That sounds amazing.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have no more idea why I wrote this than why you read it.
> 
> Find me us on tumblr as lexas-evolving-tattoo.tumblr.com and doccholiday.tumblr.com.


End file.
